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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28805442">The Calamity of Link’s Cargo Shorts</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zeldas_Eyebrows/pseuds/Zeldas_Eyebrows'>Zeldas_Eyebrows</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Legend of Zelda &amp; Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Accidental Voyeurism, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Cunnilingus, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Frottage, Hate Sex, Humor, Multiple Orgasms, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, POV Third Person Limited, Tent Sex, Unreliable Narrator, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, but only on Zelda's part, what is this character development doing in my porn</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 08:02:17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>18,951</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28805442</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zeldas_Eyebrows/pseuds/Zeldas_Eyebrows</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>She shouldn’t have looked. Zelda can’t stop chastising herself for it afterwards, cursing herself for her deadly curiosity.</p><p>Rather than Link impaling a variety of monsters with his silly purple sword, he instead has a very different sword in hand and is certainly not slaying anything with it.</p><p>-</p><p>Zelda accidentally catches an eyeful, gets angry, and then gets even.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Link/Zelda (Legend of Zelda), Zelink - Relationship</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>103</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>348</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>She shouldn’t have looked. Zelda can’t stop chastising herself for it afterwards, cursing herself for her deadly curiosity.</p><p>So far, the hot fall day passed like a kidney stone: slow and excruciating. Since breakfast, Zelda and Link had been riding through the mountains with only a short stop for lunch. Now, the afternoon sun beats down as they travel across the exposed cliffside, pricking their skin and sneaking through the protective barrier of Zelda’s sunglasses into her eyes.</p><p>If the shrine wasn’t located somewhere not in the middle of bumfuck nowhere, it wouldn’t be an issue. But because it <em>is </em>located smack dab in the center of bumfuck nowhere, they can’t drive or bike in and have to use their horses to traverse the narrow, winding mountain paths. Sheer cliffs drop off on their right and the rocky mountain slopes up on their left, grey rock only broken up by scarce short trees and squat shrubs.</p><p>The things she does for her dissertation.</p><p>Sweat drips down Zelda’s neck and soaks into her tank top. She keeps applying sunscreen to try and keep from burning because she sweats it off so quickly in the heat. Even Link seems a bit off, shifting in his saddle and acting more tense and twitchy than usual.</p><p>Zelda waves the bottle of sunscreen in his direction and asks, “Would you like some?”</p><p>Link nods in response, leaning over to take the bottle from her. As usual, he doesn’t talk to her unless it’s absolutely necessary and shows as much emotion as the rocky face of the mountain does. He’s always so boring and quiet and closed-off.</p><p>What must it be like lacking any passion for life or knowledge, Zelda wonders? What must it be like to go through life like a piece of white bread, living only as an imitation of a person? In one of Zelda’s better and more cutting insults, she’d joked to Urbosa that Link was the personification of a computer screensaver. She still stands by that analysis.</p><p>The only reason she even asks Link if he wants some sunscreen is as a courtesy and formality ingrained in her after years of royal manners training. Even though Zelda hates him, she must retain her bearing and always show him politeness. No matter how stilted or forced that politeness may be.</p><p>Though she realizes that Link made the right decision in taking some sunscreen, since his cheeks and ears are splashed with pink. His nose also has more freckles on it than before, making him appear younger than the twenty-three Zelda knows he actually is. It’s not enough that he’s perfect and stoic and blessed, but to add insult to injury, he’s a year older than her.</p><p><em>He </em>already graduated University with his BS, was officially knighted, and pulled the Master Sword from the pedestal. Much to her horror, he was then appointed as her personal knight escort. <em>He </em>doesn’t have to struggle for years to unlock his goddess-given gifts, <em>he </em>doesn’t have to bear the shame and anxiety of the entire kingdom, and <em>he </em>doesn’t even have to attend graduate school like she does. Worst of all, unlike Zelda, he doesn’t have to write a damn dissertation! Or, in her case, two: a real dissertation about the quantum mechanics of ancient Sheikah technology and a fake theology dissertation to appease her father.</p><p>But, if nothing else, at least she’s taller.</p><p>Without a care in the world, Link squeezes the goop into his hands and slaps it onto his face without preamble.</p><p>Hate bubbles up in her throat and for the life of her, Zelda cannot comprehend why everyone else in Hyrule seems to worship Link. Even the wild animals seem to love him! Everywhere he goes, he makes friends, which the many shabby friendship bracelets that cover his wrists attest to. And he gets quite the unsolicited attention from women and men. Which Zelda especially doesn’t understand, since he doesn’t make any effort with his appearance. If a knife was pressed to her throat, Zelda still couldn’t begin to guess when he last took some scissors to his shaggy, long hair that he half-asses into a messy half-ponytail every day.</p><p>At least Link’s mercifully very clean and meticulous about his personal hygiene, always smelling quite nice unless he’s covered in monster blood and guts. Sadly, that level of care does not extend to his sense of style. When Link’s not wearing hiking boots, he wears tevas and a horrid waterproof sandal Zelda has come to learn are called “keenes.” The only things she’s ever seen him wear that that match are his stupid little blue hoop earrings and his hair-ties that live both on his wrist by his waterproof watch and around his sad excuse for a ponytail.</p><p>And even though Zelda has a sneaking suspicion he’s not entirely straight based on calculating the average amount of time he stares at both attractive women and men, Link still wears the worst, most stereotypically heterosexual male cargo pants she’s ever seen. And they’re not even <em>just </em>cargo pants, no, they’re goddamn cargo pants that have the audacity to zip off and morph into shorts. Into <em>shorts</em>. Like a horrible hiking straight male granola bro shapeshifting monstrosity. More than shorts, less than pants, and unequalled in abomination. They belong on an aggressively outdoorsy frat boy’s floor instead of on her appointed knight’s rounded, muscular ass. It’s the most dreadful thing she’s ever seen, and she’s seen Revali try to fly drunk.</p><p>The absolute atrocity of the cargo shorts makes even the holey t-shirts, flannel button-ups, hiking boots, and <em>magical fanny pack </em>seem like valid fashion choices. And the damn purple sword bound to him with leather straps that only makes him look more like a ridiculous, frumpy intro-to-bondage elf seems mild in comparison.</p><p>In short, pun completely intended, Link is a walking fashion disaster.</p><p>The sound of the sunscreen bottle snapping shut breaks Zelda away from her lengthy diatribe on Link’s shortcomings.</p><p>“Thank you, Princess,” Link says as he passes the sunscreen back to her. Thanking Zelda is one of the rare occasions he actually deigns to speak to her. When he talks, she’s always surprised that his voice is lower and softer than expected. She wishes it was high and reedy and annoying.</p><p>“Of course,” Zelda replies.</p><p>Link has missed rubbing the sunscreen in quite a few spots, especially on his ears, but Zelda isn’t going to tell him. Any small victory is celebrated.</p><p>Something white catches her gaze and wrenches it down to Link’s thigh where a stray drop of sunscreen has landed. Staring at him and the cargo shorts conjured from some Lovecraftian hell dimension, Zelda amends that they aren’t <em>only </em>terrible, they’re also too tight on his rather generous thighs. Not that Zelda had been staring at his fit thighs, of course. She’d never do that. Especially not stare at how the solid muscles of Link’s legs shift and tighten while he moves atop his horse in a fluid, practiced wave. Never.</p><p>While Zelda tries not to glare a hole in his tragic excuse for shorts, Link tenses up, mumbles something too quick and quiet for her to catch, and vaults off Epona.</p><p><em>He’s certainly in a rush. I bet more of those awful Bokoblins were trying to sneak up on us, </em>Zelda thinks with a frown, halting her horse and grabbing Epona’s reins.</p><p>In a series of ominous portents that only serve to twist Zelda’s guts up and make her father yell at her more, the numbers of monsters and attacks keep increasing every day. Therefore, Link having to stop to kill things when they travel is a depressingly common occurrence. If there’s anything actually dangerous, Link will have her go ahead to a higher, safer vantage point and wait until he’s done with his murdering. In this case, it doesn’t seem too life-threatening since he didn’t tell her to run.</p><p>Something rustles behind Zelda by the edge of the cliff, which is a bit strange. Normally, by this point, the sounds of monster shrieks and clanging metal would ring out during a quick scuffle that Link would emerge from with black blood dripping down that awful, garish sword. But instead of the sounds of battle and Link’s stupidly loud yells and grunts in combat, Zelda catches a noise like a canteen being dumped out and a deep sigh.</p><p>Curiosity gets the best of her; Zelda turns around to assess the unusual situation and immediately regrets her decision. Rather than Link impaling a variety of monsters with his silly purple sword, he instead has a very different sword in hand and is certainly not slaying anything with it.</p><p><em>That sword is a penis, </em>Zelda realizes in horror. <em>That’s </em>Link’s <em>penis.</em></p><p>Being blessed with both the Triforce of Wisdom and a functional brain, Zelda fits the pieces of the puzzle together. The words that Link had mumbled were likely something about “examining the moss,” or “collecting moss samples,” which is their code to request privacy whenever they are travelling and nature calls. They’d had to pack up their camp quickly to outrun a thunderstorm this morning, and she doesn’t remember him skulking off behind a tree to relieve himself during their lunch stop, either, since it had been cut short by a surprise lynel attack. Whenever they stop, he always lets her go first and busies himself with setting up their camp or making food for her, waiting until everything else is done to see to himself. And in all of the times they’ve travelled together, he’s never had to stop for himself before, usually waiting until Zelda does or until they stop for a meal. Though she supposes waiting since at least the night before would do it.</p><p>But none of that is any excuse for why Zelda has to now be within three meters of Link pissing off a damn cliff.</p><p>Or why it’s been at least five seconds and she still hasn’t stopped staring at him.</p><p>Zelda shakes her head to clear it and calls out to him, voice cutting and caustic, “Did you grow up on a farm? Show some respect.”</p><p>Link makes a noise that Zelda can only describe as a yelp and whips his head towards where Zelda meets his eyes with disgust. His face drains white then settles into burning red as he tries to turn his body and shuffle away from Zelda and her livid glare. In a rare fit of clumsiness, he slips on the loose rocks, narrowly avoids splashing his boots, and almost falls off the edge of the cliff. Not that Zelda would mind if he careened off a steep drop to his death, dick out and all. Though she supposes it wouldn’t be easy to explain the Hero’s untimely, humiliating demise to her father.</p><p>With a jolt, Zelda realizes she’s <em>still </em>staring, albeit at his back and hunched shoulders now. Finally, she rips her eyes away, mouth dry and face burning.  </p><p>Anger licks up her spine and clouds her eyes. Even though this is the first time his perfect façade has ever slipped, she can’t help but despise her stupid, flawless shadow. Why does he have to be so damn gross? She can’t believe it; he’s usually so proper and uptight. For the love of Nayru, they live in the same apartment and she hasn’t even been able to catch him leaving a toilet seat up!</p><p>The man himself interrupts Zelda’s internal tirade as he trudges sheepishly back to Epona and flings himself into the saddle. Thankfully, his penis is nowhere to be seen and his long flannel shirt falls over where his pants are now presumably, blessedly zipped.</p><p>Zelda drops Epona’s reins as if they’re burning.</p><p>“My sincerest apologies, Princess,” Link forces out, collecting Epona’s reins with his head bowed and his face and ears blazing red. Not counting the quiet mumbling and the thanks, it’s the most he’s spoken to her the whole day.</p><p>Zelda takes a page from his infuriating book and doesn’t dignify him with a response. They ride past the cliffs in tense silence, Link refusing to speak a single word or meet Zelda’s eyes.</p><p>As they decrease in elevation, the gray mountainside gives way to a pine forest that’s their last stop before they reach the shrine on a foothill at the edge of another sprawling mountain range. When they come across a pair of moblins lumbering around a crude campfire, even Link’s obnoxious grunts in combat are subdued. Though his sword work seems more savage than usual.</p><p>“We need to keep going if we want to be able to reach the shrine tomorrow morning,” Zelda calls out as she rides past where Link is wiping his sword off on a hacked-up carcass’ back.</p><p>Still not looking at her, Link sheathes the sword and whistles to Epona. They continue riding through the forest until the light turns golden and muted and they find a suitable clearing to camp in for the night.</p><p>While Zelda sits down on a log to review her findings on the Sheikah slate and write down her observations on her own tablet, Link feeds and tethers the horses, puts up her tent, and starts a fire. But focusing on her work becomes almost impossible with Link in her line of sight. Every time she sees him, her mind flashes back to the cliffs and she sees <em>it </em>like an afterimage on her retinas. Concentrating is impossible. The stylus almost cracks the screen of the poor tablet.</p><p>It’s getting to be dinner time, so Zelda waves her hand and tells Link in a typical burst of passive aggression, “Make whatever you feel like for dinner. For some reason, I don’t have much of an appetite.”  </p><p>A terse nod and frown are his only response. Instead of his normal obnoxious soft humming while he cooks, Link stares into the fire and rips pine needles apart while the cooking pot bubbles in front of him. If Zelda didn’t know better, if she didn’t know that Link was a cold, blank slate void of emotion, she would think he’s depressed.</p><p>Even though she’s told him to, Zelda knows there’s a greater chance that Ganon will appear to try and murder everyone in Hyrule at their apartment on a Tuesday wearing only a tutu and top hat than there is a chance Link will make something for dinner that he solely feels like. Even though Zelda despises Link, and even though he must hate her too since he never talks to her, he still tries his damnedest to do things that make her happy. Well, except for leaving her alone. But Link somehow found out what all of her favorite foods are and makes sure to always cook them when they travel. Once, Zelda mentioned off-hand that she liked a type of granola bars that had been discontinued and Link went and baked them himself, packing enough of the bars for their next trip to feed an army. They’d even tasted better than the original. Not that she ever told him.</p><p>Link even has a sixth sense about when she’s hungry or thirsty or needs a break. He listens with rapt attention whenever Zelda goes on a long spiel about her research, even breaking his normal silence to ask short, intelligent questions that keep her talking. One time, he sprinted to a corner store to buy her emergency tampons because she couldn’t leave her 4-hour afternoon lab. He’s even literally given her the shirt off his back and the shoes off his feet before.        </p><p>None of these things are even remotely in Link’s job description as her personal knight and escort, but he does them because that’s the kind of person he is. Selfless, caring, and utterly infuriating in Zelda’s opinion. And he isn’t kind to just her, she sees him help others all the time. From fixing their neighbor’s washing machine to paying for struggling people’s groceries and to letting kids ride Epona, he’s incredibly giving. People ask and ask and ask of him, but he requests nothing in return.</p><p><em>Maybe that’s why everyone loves him, </em>Zelda realizes. <em>I’m a complete idiot. They don’t like him only because he’s attractive- well, because </em>they <em>think he’s attractive. They like him because he’s </em>kind<em>.</em></p><p>Warmth not from the fire spreads through Zelda’s chest as she watches Link pull some ingredients out of his magical fanny pack and add them to the simmering pot. The firelight hits his face and casts each of his features in a golden glow. The sloping line of Link’s nose and the sharp angle of his jaw perfectly complement the fullness of his cheeks and lips. Zelda realizes that she should probably amend her previous statement. Even though he doesn’t put any effort into it, Link is unambiguously and objectively attractive. Which is <em>infuriating</em>.</p><p>Somehow the fact that Link is so kind and considerate and handsome and all-around <em>perfect, </em>barring the notable exception today<em>, </em>makes Zelda resent him more. It would make hating him so much easier if he was a self-absorbed, arrogant, dimwitted knight. Instead, he’s stubborn and determined and reckless and committed and quick-witted. He’s loyal, honest, intelligent, and gentle. Link isn’t some rude brute, which is somehow worse, since Zelda has to truly work to keep up her ire towards him.</p><p>In the back of her mind, Zelda knows she’s never given him a fair chance. She hated him, the <em>idea </em>of him, before they even met.</p><p>
  <em>“I pledge my sword and my life in service to the Crown,” Link recited in the Sanctum for all of Hyrule, kneeling before Zelda with one hand over his heart and the other holding hers.</em>
</p><p>That’s where he belongs, <em>Zelda thought. </em>On his knees.</p><p>
  <em>Since cameras were trained on her face, Zelda attempted to mask her distain for the man on the ground in front of her. Allowing the shame and jealousy that festered in her heart at the sight of the sword strapped on his back to show would be reprehensible. The whole kingdom didn’t need extra kindling to throw on the pyre of shame she brought to them.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The gold on the scabbard of the accursed sword glinted in the bright sun that filtered through the towering stained-glass windows, mocking her, blinding her. Finally, Zelda said the proper words at the proper time with the proper face and the ceremony had ended. Link rose and pressed his lips to the royal signet ring on her finger.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I am yours,” Link whispered so quietly that the microphones couldn’t pick it up.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Glancing up at Zelda through his light eyelashes, he met her eyes and held her gaze. Her hand still burned from where his cheek and chin had brushed against it.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Something hot twisted in Zelda’s stomach. For one terrifying moment, she thought she’d be sick all over Link’s spotless, shined boots. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>As they walked off the dais together, hand in burning hand, Zelda had to force herself to breathe.</em>
</p><p>It was only five months ago, but Zelda can picture it as clearly as if it’s happening now. While she remembers, Link sprinkles a spice into the bubbling pot and keeps his eyes cast downwards.</p><p>Deep down, Zelda knows her initial contempt had been unjustified, but how can she not hate him and all that he stands for? Some stupid man that stumbled upon and pulled the sword of legend on a damn <em>camping trip</em> and had suddenly succeeded where she’d failed for years and years on end. She will never be good enough, no matter how much she sacrifices and kills herself to be, but this man can just waltz in and be blessed and chosen and gifted by the goddesses.</p><p>What does <em>he</em> have that she doesn’t? Why is <em>he</em> blessed and she cursed?</p><p>Remembering her failings, the warmth that had flared in Zelda’s chest fades and is replaced by icy tendrils that root in her stomach and spread through her chest. She can’t forget herself and allow the obnoxious, short knight any charitable thoughts. After all, he must loathe her, too.</p><p>As the sun dips down over the tree line and the sweltering fall heat of the day melts into the dark chill of night, they eat dinner in silence. Thankfully, Link has cooked a rich vegetable soup that Zelda’s very partial to and not anything remotely phallic. <em>Small miracles.</em> Zelda doesn’t want to imagine what it would be like to stuff a carrot or sausage in her mouth after that sight.</p><p>Flames crackle between them and cast Link in flickering orange light. Though many hours have passed since the incident, the strange tension in his face and body hasn’t dissipated. No one who didn’t know Link extremely well would be able to tell the difference between his normal, neutral stoic lack of expression and this new dejected, aggressive rejection of emotion. However, Zelda has been forced to spend the last five months in very close company with him, and she can discern the minute differences in his face. Maybe it’s the slight tension between his thick eyebrows or the taut set of his lips. Perhaps it’s the way he stares off into the distance. It could even be how he balls up his hands on top of his thighs. Whatever it is, something is undoubtably off about him. Could she have been wrong about Link? Could he have the capacity to feel after all?</p><p>The soup bursts with flavor and comfort, but her stomach turns at the sight of Link’s stone face across the fire. Wolves howl, birds cry, and a chilly autumn wind rustles through the trees. Zelda shivers and only finishes half of her bowl.</p><p>Of course, Link notices her discomfort and reaches into the magic fanny pack to pull out a thick cloak. He makes his way over to the log she’s sitting on, sits down beside her, and offers her the bundle without words.</p><p>Even though she hates accepting anything from him, the cold wins out over her pride. Zelda takes the cloak from him. For a fraction of a second, their fingers brush against each other. She’s back in the Sanctum and her hand burns and stomach turns.</p><p>“Thank you,” Zelda forces herself to say while she drapes the heavy fabric over her shoulders.</p><p>As he nods, something sparks behind his eyes that she can’t quite discern.</p><p>It’s too quiet. Can he hear her breathe? Can he hear how hard her heart is beating?</p><p>Link shifts as if he’s preparing to get up.</p><p>“Here, I’m finished,” Zelda announces and pushes her half-full bowl at Link before he can leave, soup sloshing and almost spilling in his lap.</p><p>His fingers touch hers again when he takes the bowl from her. She burns.</p><p>With something horribly close to hope in his eyes, Link glances up at Zelda. But he quickly lowers his eyes when she meets him with a scowl. That strange almost-expression fades and hollowness trickles down his face, covering any emotions.</p><p>“Thank you, Princess,” Link replies, staring down into the soup.</p><p>Zelda nods in acknowledgment. Maybe she’s getting sick, or perhaps there’s something else wrong with her, because her chest tightens up in pain.</p><p>Link retreats back to his log, shovels the rest of Zelda’s soup into his mouth, and then begins to clean up dinner while Zelda goes off to wash up before bed. While brushing her teeth, Zelda continues ruminating on the events of the day and dinner. Even though she wants to stubbornly cling to her belief that Link’s a soulless, unfeeling automaton, Zelda has to admit that that he seems upset. But that’s not her problem, Zelda rationalizes, since it’s <em>his </em>fault for being too quiet when telling her the code phrase. It’s <em>his </em>fault she inadvertently got an eyeful. Still, for some reason, a tiny shard of guilt mixes in with her anger. Zelda spits out the toothpaste onto the forest floor with a grimace.</p><p>In her sleeping bag in the tent, Zelda tries and fails to sleep. She can’t keep her mind from snapping back to <em>him </em>every time she forces herself to think about complicated mathematics or ancient engineering or principles of botany or something else relaxing. Every time, she sees the relief on his face, the familiar grip of his hand, the softness of <em>it </em>against the hard line of his body.</p><p>Zelda scrunches her eyes shut, but <em>his goddamned penis </em>is branded into her memory. She wonders what he would feel like in her hand instead, if he would be as smooth to the touch as she imagines, if the tip would be soft when she pulls his foreskin back and strokes her thumb over it. She wonders how he would flush and grow with arousal, how heavy he would lay on her tongue, if he’d feel warm inside her. How much would she stretch around him as he-</p><p>Realizing that her fingers have snuck between her legs and have subconsciously started stroking herself over her thermal leggings, Zelda rips her hand away. Rage forks through her. As if it’s not enough that she has to see the damn purple sword every day in its lurid, phallic ostentation, now she can’t even get to sleep without being tortured with thoughts of his <em>actual </em>phallus!</p><p>Why is she even thinking about him like that? Zelda’s forced herself to admit that he’s attractive, but that doesn’t mean she’s attracted <em>to him</em>, right? Though almost masturbating to the thought of him seems to disprove that hypothesis.</p><p>
  <em>Damn.</em>
</p><p>Zelda’s hands clench into fists against the nylon of her sleeping bag and her fingernails dig into her palms. Giving in and touching herself to the thought of him would mean losing, and Zelda has suffered enough losses in her life than to give her obnoxious knight a petty victory.</p><p>So she’ll make him suffer with her.</p><p>Link hasn’t put out the fire yet, and through the tent wall Zelda can make out his outline going through forms with the stupid sword, slashing and jabbing through the air. It’s like he’s taunting her with his skill, his divine gift. At least she can make him stop for a moment, maybe annoy him a modicum of the amount he frustrates her.</p><p>“Knight, bring me the slate,” she barks out in his direction, getting out of her sleeping bag and sitting up properly. “I wish to further review my notes from today.”</p><p>In one of her self-imposed rules, she doesn’t ever address him by name. That would be too familiar, especially for someone as reserved and uptight as Link.</p><p>Seconds later, the tent flap unzips and Link crouches in the entry, slate in hand. She could possibly reach it from where she’s sitting on top of her sleeping bag, but she doesn’t want to.</p><p>Holding out her hand, she orders, “Hand it to me. Don’t be rude and make me reach.”</p><p>Face still blank, Link clambers into the tent, rezipping the flap so that bugs don’t get in. The blue glow of the slate illuminates the interior, clashing and melding with the red firelight filtering in from outside. When he passes her the slate, their fingers brush against each other again.</p><p>Her fingers burn, her hand burns, she burns.</p><p>In the cramped confines of the tent, Link is so close that Zelda can smell the pine soap he uses and the sharp mint of his toothpaste. And Zelda can’t help her eyes falling to the muscles of his thighs and the way the fabric of the too-tight disaster currently masquerading as pants stretches across them as he squats down. The long hem of Link’s worn, flannel shirt falls over the space between his legs, but Zelda doesn’t need to see the bulge between his thighs to conjure up the image of what’s lurking beneath his zipper. It flashes across her eyes again and her fingers burn and her stomach flips and she thinks she’s going to be sick. She puts the slate down to the side and tries to breathe.</p><p>“Do you need anything else, Princess?” Link asks, voice rasping out hoarse and hesitant. His big eyes are earnest as ever and still struggle to meet her gaze. Strands of dark blond hair fall over his face and it disgusts Zelda how handsome he is.</p><p>It’s not fair that he can just <em>have </em>everything she’s wasted her entire life training for, it’s not fair that he’s kind and everyone loves him, it’s not fair that she’s forced to spend every waking second with the living embodiment of her failure, and it’s not fair that she hates him so much and still wants him so badly. She’s burning, skin gobbled down by flames, eyes dry and searing, smoke filling her lungs and choking her. It’s all too much and she can’t bear it for another second.</p><p>“I hate you,” Zelda whispers, and Link’s blank stare <em>finally </em>falters, shattering and crumpling in hurt before she grabs the back of his neck and wrenches his face down into a violent kiss.</p><p>Zelda always overthinks and overanalyzes her actions, paralyzingly afraid of failure. But she kisses Link before she even knows what she’s doing, acting purely on instinct and blind rage. She wants to horrify him, shock him, make him <em>feel, </em>make him human just like her.</p><p>Their teeth clack together and Link freezes for a moment before melting into the kiss and opening his mouth. He surges back against Zelda, one hand on her cheek and the other at her hip as they fall back onto her sleeping bag. The kiss grows less brutal but doesn’t lose passion as Link straddles one of Zelda’s thighs and pushes his right leg up between hers.</p><p>Moaning into his mouth, Zelda’s fingers twist in his hair and her thighs clamp around him as she rocks back, meeting and matching his movements. The solid muscle of Link’s thigh rubbing up against her builds a sweet pressure in her stomach that bursts bright behind her eyelids. And Zelda knows that Link is affected too; she can tell by how he groans and sweeps his tongue against hers, hungry and fierce. She can tell by the way his hand strokes up her body to cup her breast. She can tell by the hardness that presses and grinds against her hip.</p><p>Zelda’s seen Link fight many times, and it’s impossible for her to not notice the fluid grace, explosive power, and breathtaking skill he possesses whether he’s sparring or when he’s taking the lives of enemies. But she somehow couldn’t have pictured this, the artistry and skill he kisses with, the fervor and confidence of each of his movements.</p><p>It’s so good that she’s shocked.</p><p>Forgetting herself completely, Zelda sinks into the heat and closeness of him, giving in to feeling and pleasure and want. Fire spreads everywhere, licking up her back, around her breasts, between her thighs. And the tent could burn, the kingdom could burn, the whole damn world could burn for all she cares. Nothing matters now.</p><p>And then it’s all pulled away, yanked off like a warm blanket in the morning. Without any warning, Link rips himself away from Zelda and scuttles back, putting as much distance between them as he can in the tiny space. On his hands and knees and breathing hard, his mouth flaps open and closed. Zelda’s never seen him so flustered or so unguarded, and the reality of what they’ve done, what <em>she’s </em>done, slams into her. Panic and rage and dread stitch themselves into her skin.</p><p>“I shouldn’t-” Link huffs out and shakes his head as if trying to clear it. His hair flies around his face, wild and down, hair tie lost somewhere in the dark shadows of the tent, and his harsh breaths fill the space between them.</p><p>Zelda catches the exact moment when Link shuts down his face and dons the impassive mask again.</p><p>He tries again, his voice a soft monotone, “I’m so sorry, Princess. I shouldn’t have done that.”</p><p>As if <em>he’d </em>been the one to instigate it, as if <em>he </em>is solely responsible for everything. Anger threads through Zelda’s veins, snaking around her spine, settling behind her eyes. Her heart pounds and her vision blackens.</p><p>“Why?” she asks, not bothering to temper the sting in her tone. “Oh, I apologize, am I ruining the good knight’s reputation? Are you too good to lower yourself to my level? Am I besmirching your impeccable virtue?”</p><p>Link’s throat bobs as he takes a harsh swallow. “No, it’s not allowed. I–”</p><p>“There isn’t a written rule,” Zelda interrupts. “We’re living in the modern age now. The letter of the law does not forbid it, just the spirit. If you don’t want me, that’s fine, but don’t lie to me about it.”</p><p>She balls up her fists so tightly she wouldn’t be surprised if blood leaked out.</p><p>“I <em>do</em>, Princess.” Link rocks back and forth on the balls of his feet and repeats himself, “But I still really shouldn’t-”</p><p>Zelda cuts him off and bites out, “Why? Are you afraid? Nervous?” She narrows her eyes and speaks with all the venom that’s welled up in the past months. “Is this your first time? For all the talk of you being perfect, I bet you’re not good at everything.”</p><p>Link bites his lip and doesn’t respond to the goads.</p><p>When Zelda thinks back on this incident, she will never be able to parse what exactly possesses her to blurt out, “I bet you couldn’t even bring me to orgasm if you tried.”</p><p>Silence crashes between them and fills the space of the tent, choking and arresting. Link freezes, staring at Zelda without even blinking. She can’t read his expression and is about to move away and say something else rude to get him to stop staring at her like that and leave when Link finally breaks, arrives at some internal decision, and speaks.</p><p>“Ten minutes.”</p><p>Zelda scoffs. “What, is that all you’re good for? Though perhaps that’s more than I would have assumed.”</p><p>“No,” Link replies and wipes his palms on his thighs. He’s wearing gloves. “I’ll do it in less than ten minutes.”</p><p>Zelda’s pulse skips and her stomach drops, just as it does when her foot misses a step or her horse stumbles by a cliff. What has she done?</p><p>Instead of diffusing the situation, she throws kindling to the fire. “You’re setting yourself up for failure. Care to wager?”</p><p>Link shrugs. “If you wish to.”</p><p>“If I win, you will formally resign your post as my knight attendant, since I do not require an escort. You will never be in my presence unless ordered to by my father.”   </p><p>“I accept those terms,” he says with a nod. “But you’ll need another escort. You need to be safe.”</p><p>Zelda rolls her eyes and ignores him. “If you somehow manage to win, I will never complain about you again.”</p><p>“No.” Link narrows his eyes. “I set my own terms. If I win, you will tell your father the truth about these trips. You’ll tell him the technological discoveries and advancements you’ve made with the ancient Sheikah technology and that you refuse to not be allowed to do your research anymore. You’ll tell him what you’re <em>actually </em>writing your dissertation on.”</p><p><em>Why would he say that? </em>Zelda wonders, too shocked by the content of his words to think about the fact that it’s the most words Link has spoken to her at one time. <em>Does he want me to be humiliated in front of my father? Why wouldn’t he suggest something that would benefit himself?</em></p><p>“That’s- Fine, I agree to your terms. It’s not like you’ll win,” she goads as well as rationalizes.</p><p>Instead of responding to that taunt, Link undoes the buckle that fastens the leather belt holding the scabbard on his back. The sword thumps to the nylon tent floor behind him. His bracer hits the ground and he peels off his gloves. Suddenly, it’s real to Zelda. She’s actually about to have sex with the man she just told she hates. Who, coincidentally, is her appointed knight and the damn Hero chosen by the Goddess. She’s about to have sex with <em>Link</em>.</p><p>“Take your clothes off if you want to truly bet against me,” he says, rolling up the sleeves of his flannel shirt.  There’s something both sad and determined to the tilt of his head. “Unless you’re afraid. Nervous? Maybe it’s your first time?” He echoes her own words, but from his mouth they’re somehow teasing instead of taunting.</p><p>Zelda glares at him and spits out, “Of course not.” There’s no way she’s afraid of <em>him</em>.</p><p>When she’s stripped her leggings and shirt off, Link clambers over to her and gestures at her boring black bra. It’s supportive and practical enough for riding and hiking, but Zelda wishes she was wearing something a bit more seductive so that she could fluster him.</p><p>“Here, let me,” Link offers, sliding his arms around her chest and unhooking her bra in a single motion.</p><p>At the ease and speed he unfastens the clasp and slides the straps off her shoulders, a trickle of trepidation runs down Zelda’s neck and spine.</p><p><em>It is definitely not his first time taking off a bra, </em>Zelda realizes. <em>But, no matter, that doesn’t mean he really knows what he’s doing. Surely he’ll be bumbling and clueless.</em></p><p>Link sets the bra on the side of the tent and lets himself stare at her breasts for a moment before placing his hands right below the swell and moving down to the waistband of her cotton underwear. At his touch, her pulse beats a fast rhythm between her legs and some small part of her brain fixates on the fact that his skin is warm. Only the dilation of his pupils and the way his lips part slightly serve as the tell that he’s eager.</p><p>“Lift your hips, please,” Link asks, sliding Zelda’s underwear completely off when she complies. </p><p>Apparently, Link <em>does </em>possess some modicum of a self-preservation instinct after all, because he doesn’t comment on how soaked her underwear is. Instead, he wets his lips and stares at her in a way that strikes Zelda as feral and hungry.</p><p>“Would you please do the honors, Princess?” Link asks and holds his wrist up to Zelda. With his other hand, he runs his fingers up and down the crease of her inner thigh. She twitches.</p><p>It takes Zelda a few moments to parse what he’s asking, but then it sinks in and she presses the button on his watch that starts the timer. The bright blue display taunts her.</p><p>“Thank you,” Link says and kisses the skin right below Zelda’s navel. “I’ve always enjoyed timed challenges.”</p><p>Zelda hears her own heartbeat, quick and deafening, pounding away in her ears.</p><p>As Link lowers his head and scoots down her body, his fingers move from her inner thighs to the center, dragging up and down with light pressure. The pads of his fingers barely touch her skin, but it still makes her want to squirm. It still makes that tightness in her stomach bloom hot and her breath hitch.</p><p>Even though she knows better, she still can’t help provoking him. “If you’re just going to tease me, you’re never going to win.”</p><p>At that, one finger dips inside her body and Zelda tries not to jolt, tries not to show any reaction. Link’s eyes, dark and blown, keep flicking between his fingers and her face. Warm breath brushes against the short hair between her legs, tickling and teasing and torturously close. Zelda’s mouth runs dry. He breathes out and wets his lips again.</p><p>Unbidden and unwanted, the buried memory of Link and the peanut butter cup slams into Zelda’s mind. Link’s habit of bringing snacks wherever he goes extends even to lectures, and one fateful, dark day during the middle of Quantum Mechanics 251b, he pulled out a single serving cup of peanut butter. But instead of doing anything dignified like using a fork or crackers to eat the peanut butter with, Link peeled back the foil, dipped his tongue in, and went to town.</p><p>The fact that no one paid any attention to the lecture and instead directed their undivided and shameless focus to Link licking the plastic peanut butter cup clean incensed Zelda. She also feared that Mipha was going to faint and she would be the only person in the entire lecture hall who would have the wherewithal to perform first aid and call the paramedics, since <em>she </em>wasn’t ruled by base urges like the rest of her colleagues. Throughout the entire graphic spectacle, Link remained oblivious. And then pulled out another peanut butter cup to offer to Zelda.</p><p>Zelda hasn’t thought about the Peanut Butter Fiasco of Quantum Mechanics 251b for months. Now, with Link’s face and wet lips between her spread thighs, less than a breath away from her, Zelda can’t help herself from reliving the entire sordid incident in explicit detail. She can’t help herself remembering exactly how his pink tongue lapped and swirled around the cup.</p><p><em>Oh goddesses, </em>I’m <em>the peanut butter cup now, </em>Zelda thinks. <em>Oh no oh no oh no–</em></p><p>Link wiggles his finger back and forth inside her and cracks a small smile. She’s so rarely seen him make any expression that it shocks her. For some reason, when he made the decision to continue this, he’d made the decision to open up to her more. And Zelda can’t deny that she enjoys seeing his true expressions and hearing his words.</p><p>Zelda gulps. “You’re going to have to do more than that.”</p><p>Another finger effortlessly presses inside her, and Link crooks them up towards her stomach and starts rubbing, searching. But Zelda refuses to let him have the satisfaction, refuses to give anything away and make this easy for him. She’ll never-</p><p><em>“Oh!”</em> Zelda cries out when he pushes his fingers against the right spot.</p><p>So much for keeping him in the dark. Cursing herself for being so obvious and wishing she could take it back, Zelda glares down at Link and vows not to make any other obvious signs.</p><p>Link smiles wider and keeps pressing down hard against that exact spot, asking, “Does that feel good?”</p><p>It’s much too late to save that knowledge from Link, since he seems to have already memorized just where to touch her inside to make her squirm. Even so, Zelda refuses to give up so easily. Taking a page from Link’s own book, she does not answer him. But her body betrays her by clamping down on every thrust of his fingers. Sharp pleasure stabs into her stomach in time with his motions. It doesn’t just feel good, it feels fucking fantastic, and it’s torture to keep still and to not move against him.</p><p>A sense of impending doom settles over Zelda as the pleasure builds with each rub of Link’s fingers inside her. But even though he seems to be well acquainted with the g-spot, maybe there’s still hope. Maybe he doesn’t <em>really </em>know what he’s doing. Maybe the Peanut Butter Fiasco of Quantum Mechanics 251b was just a fluke and doesn’t mean anything. Maybe he’s just another stupid man who thinks he can just use his fingers or penis to pound away to orgasm and to whom the clitoris is as foreign to as shower products that aren’t an 11-in-one unholy bodywash/shampoo/conditioner/weedkiller combo.</p><p>“Hm,” Link hums and drops his head to lick from where his fingers move inside Zelda up to her clit.</p><p><em>Shit, </em>Zelda thinks. <em>Maybe not.</em></p><p>His tongue is wet and hot and everything Zelda’s been wanting. Gritting her teeth and squeezing her nails into her palms, she tries her best to stay still and keep it together. But just the sight of him so close to her, with his pink tongue lapping against her skin and his light eyelashes fanned out across his flushed cheeks, turns Zelda on even more. His tousled, untamed hair tickles the insides of her thighs and she tries not to shiver.</p><p>
  <em>Holy goddesses, this is so much worse than the peanut butter cup.</em>
</p><p>Link kisses the top of her crease and asks, “Good?”</p><p>Zelda doesn’t respond verbally. But a muscle in her thigh twitches and gives her away. <em>Traitor.</em></p><p>“If you tell me what you like, I could make it even better,” Link offers after a particularly vigorous pass of his tongue. “I want to make you feel good.”</p><p>In response, something close to a growl leaves her mouth.</p><p>Zelda wants nothing more than to tell him exactly what she desperately wants him to do. She wants nothing more than to move her hips, to force Link to stop teasing and bring his tongue right where she needs it. But he’s not the only one who’s stubborn, and even though Zelda knows she’s fighting a losing battle, she’ll still keep fighting.</p><p>With his free hand, Link spreads Zelda open and starts circling his tongue right around where she wants him the most without actually touching it, never stopping the short thrusts of his fingers inside her that rub over the right spot every single damn time.</p><p><em>I’m literally and metaphorically fucked, </em>she thinks. <em>This has to be divine retribution. I must have done something terrible in a past life.</em></p><p>In that moment, Zelda knows she’s made a grave tactical error. She should never have bet against the man who has a Bachelor’s of Science in goddamn Anatomy and Physiology, is ambidextrous, has greater mastery of his own body than anyone alive, is already gifted by literal goddesses at manipulating other’s body mechanics, and is blessed at doing everything and anything physical. And that was without even entering his innate love of eating things into the equation. Or considering how depressingly, pathetically attracted she is to him.</p><p>
  <em>Fuck.</em>
</p><p>Zelda’s nails dig into the nylon fabric of the sides of the sleeping mat so hard she’s surprised it hasn’t ripped and deflated yet. To try and keep her head, she counts the freckles scattered on the tops of Link’s cheeks and nose. </p><p>
  <em>One. Two. Three– Holy fuck that’s good– Wait, start again. Focus, Zelda, focus. One two three four–</em>
</p><p>When Link moves his fingers and tongue off of her, Zelda almost cries. But Link grasps her hand and requests in a low voice, “Please hold my hair back, Princess.”</p><p>Zelda doesn’t hesitate to run her fingers through his soft hair and pull the choppy bangs and side sections away from his face before he lowers his head again. Now that she has more control over him, she can’t resist nudging his head so that his tongue presses exactly where she wants it. Maybe it’s weakness and failure, but Zelda can’t bring herself to care anymore, since it’s agony to deny herself any longer. She can still win by running out the clock, and she also can enjoy herself while she’s at it.</p><p>Right?</p><p>But Link isn’t as obliging as she thought, since he pulls back and starts a series of short, quick flicks with his tongue. The sense of control slips through Zelda’s fingers like the fine strands of his hair.</p><p>
  <em>One freckle. Two. Three. Four– Oh Goddesses…</em>
</p><p>Before she can stop it, a pathetic whimper crawls its way out of her throat.</p><p>“Okay, I’ll stop doing that,” Link apologizes and drags his tongue up and down, dipping in to join his fingers and then swirling around her clit with each pass.</p><p>“Do you like it when I do this?” He does it again. “Do you want more?”</p><p>Her hips jolt forward at every pass of his tongue and it’s so good, but not quite enough. And the insufferable bastard knows that. But she still won’t tell him, won’t give voice to what she feels or wants. Though thankfully, Zelda can tell she’s not the only one getting something out of this. The sleeping mat creaks as Link’s hips rock side to side against it in a way that shows his genuine enjoyment. It does something to her, the fact that he’s so turned on by putting his mouth to her that he can’t help but rub himself against the ground.</p><p>“Relax, Princess,” Link orders, fingers speeding up their thrusts, “Let go.”</p><p>When Link purses his lips and starts sucking, Zelda makes a strangled sound and slams her head back against her camp pillow. It puffs out air in annoyance at being flattened. Link groans and thrusts hard against the ground when Zelda pulls at his hair and scrapes her nails against his scalp.</p><p>It’s too good and building much too fast and Zelda has never had less control of her body before. Now, it’s not a question of <em>if </em>she’s going to come but <em>when</em>. There’s nothing she can do to stop it, even thinking of unpleasant things like spoiled milk or vivisections or his damn cargo zip-off pant monstrosities can’t help her now because her mind has been obliterated by white light and the sight of his mouth and hand moving between her thighs.</p><p>But every time Zelda stands at the edge of the cliff, wanting to take the final step and plummet to her death, Link suddenly eases off, going back to slowly circling and flicking his tongue.</p><p>It’s torture.</p><p>Time loses all meaning as Zelda squeezes her eyes shut, torn between wanting to beg him to let her take the plunge and trying to hold on to her anger and pride. Her desire to win wanes with every motion of Link’s mouth and fingers, and she doesn’t know how much longer she can take it.</p><p>Zelda shouldn’t look, but she always does. She’s never been one to not indulge her curiosity. She finally cracks open her eyes to meets Link’s and he doesn’t break the stare as he increases the pressure of his fingers while he’s pumping them in perfect time.</p><p>Some garbled noise flies out of Zelda’s mouth and she pushes her hips against Link’s face and gasps out, “Ah! Link, <em>please</em>!”</p><p>As soon as the words pass her lips, saying just his name for the first time out loud, Zelda wishes she could take them back. Link’s eyes gleam and Zelda knows she’s on borrowed time. But a sick part of herself rejoices at her slip, relieved at last. It’s freeing to finally surrender and give in, knowing she can stop fighting for once and still be safe.</p><p>Keeping his eyes fixed on her face, Link continues steadily working his hand and starts sucking at her again, this time adding pressure with his tongue, too.</p><p>Zelda leaps from the cliff, wordless screams echoing through the fall, and breaks upon the rocks. Her fingers seize in his hair and her thighs crash against Link’s ears and jaw while he keeps going, carrying her through each twitch of her hips and contraction of her abs, waves battering her body. Using his mouth and fingers, sucking at her clit and hitting that spot deep inside her, Link draws each peak out until it devastates her. Zelda can’t see, can’t hear, can’t notice anything but how the burning pleasure consumes every single part of her body.</p><p>When she finishes, she’s staring glassy-eyed at the ceiling of the tent, body boneless and lax, still clutching Link’s head against her and gasping for air. Zelda panics that she’s forgotten how to breathe. Then Link withdraws his fingers and kisses her hipbone and she finally takes in a shuddering breath. Zelda’s hands drop from his head and Link attempts to tuck his wild hair behind his ears.</p><p>Finding her words at last, Zelda breathes out, “Oh holy goddesses. How did you…?”</p><p>“My degree is in Anatomy and Physiology, Princess.” Link raises his eyebrows and <em>licks his goddamn fingers </em>before moving up to kiss between her breasts. “And I’m sorry to disappoint, but this isn’t my first time. It would be awfully selfish if I didn’t know where certain anatomical features were by now.”</p><p>Zelda responds with a scowl.</p><p>With a small smile, Link examines his watch and holds it up for Zelda’s inspection. “Nine minutes and fifty-five seconds. Not bad. I was going for exactly 9:59.”</p><p>Zelda’s rage flares again and she grabs his ear and drags his neck to her mouth. When she bites down hard enough to draw blood, Link cries out and falls down to his elbows, pushing his hips forward against her. The taste of metal hits her tongue as she sucks a bruise around the bite. There’s going to be no way for him to hide the mark, since it’s right under his jaw, but consequences be damned. He can wear turtlenecks and scarves for the next weeks or keep his hair down for all she cares. Nothing matters now.</p><p>“I bet,” Zelda hisses into his ear, “you can’t do it again. Without your mouth.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I completely blame quarantine for this. Part 2 will be out shortly and there will be More Sex and also Talking About Feelings. </p><p>Also, this is the first fanfic I've ever published, so if you enjoy it so far please let me know what you think! I love to nerd out and talk about Legend of Zelda and zelink with anyone and everyone.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Buckle up, it’s honesty hour.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“I bet,” Zelda hisses into his ear, “you can’t do it again. Without your mouth.”</p><p>Link stills his hips and kisses up Zelda’s neck. “If you want so badly to lose, of course. Should I use only my fingers?” He presses his weight down and rocks from side to side. “Or something more?”</p><p>Even though Zelda’s still sensitive, the solidness of him beneath the flannel pressing against her makes her clench down on nothing and leaves her aching and wanting.</p><p>“If you use something you describe as more, I’d expect it to be less,” Zelda taunts. “I bet you’d lose control before I do.”</p><p>Link runs his teeth under her ear and down her neck but doesn’t bite down or make a mark, not like she did. Though Zelda wishes he would, despite the fact that she can hardly bear to admit it to herself. Maybe then they’d be even, maybe then she’d be absolved of her guilt, maybe then he’d lower himself to her level. Maybe she’d <em> like </em>it.</p><p>With a final kiss to her sternum, Link replies, “As you wish, Princess. We shall see.”</p><p>Link sits up to strip off his flannel button-up and t-shirt and finally, <em> finally </em> takes off the dreadful pants of legend. Dreams do come true. Strangely, Zelda hasn’t given a thought to the fact that up until this point, he’s been fully clothed except for his lack of gloves and rolled-up sleeves. Not that she <em>ever</em> thinks about Link's choice of underwear, but if Zelda <em>did</em> happen to imagine what type of underwear Link wears, she’d probably conjure up something like garish heart-printed boxers. </p><p>Now that the accursed pants are banished to the corner of the tent, she learns that Link actually wears a tight type of boxer-briefs that seem to have had a love child with compression shorts. Which Zelda supposes makes sense given the necessity of Link having a full athletic range of motion. And the necessity of keeping his penis and testicles from flopping around while fighting and climbing or riding horses and his ridiculous motorcycle. Right then, Zelda learns that he even wears his pants, or in this case tragic khaki excuses for pants, slightly to the left, since that’s the same side as his shield. Practical as ever.</p><p>At least the underwear seems to be quite effective, keeping everything in place, even the bulge straining against the dark fabric. Knowing she’s affected him this much gives Zelda a vindictive pleasure. With a mental snicker, she thinks that this is the closest Link has gotten to being made of stone, since he certainly seems as hard.</p><p>In the soft orange light, she can't help but admit that he’s beautiful. Even though Link eats as much food as a garbage disposal, there’s hardly any fat on his body from years and years of training. Silver scars slash across his compact musculature, evidence of the battles he’s fought and won written in flesh. He’s thin yet strong and his small waist dips in right above the thick muscles of his hips and thighs. Heat trickles down between her legs.</p><p>Zelda gulps. <em> Oh no, he </em>is<em> hot. </em></p><p>Right then, Zelda realizes that she’s been lying to herself for quite some time, because she’s wanted him for months.</p><p>Link moves to take off his too-tight boxer-briefs and then stops, hand on his navy waistband. “Wait, I don’t have– Uh, I was obviously not presumptuous enough to bring condoms to a field survey with someone who hates me.”</p><p>Sometimes Zelda thinks Link must forget she’s a genius and the literal personification of wisdom, because he assumes she doesn’t think of things before he does. Though she is slightly surprised he doesn’t carry some prophylactics in that magical fanny pack, but Zelda supposes she hasn’t been the only one not getting laid in the last five months of 24/7 bodyguard duty.</p><p>Zelda sighs and admits, “I hacked into your medical files when trying to find faults with you. <em> All </em>of them. They were quite thorough. And I was very interested to find that you’ve never had any sexually transmitted diseases or infections.”</p><p>“Oh,” Link says, eyebrows drawn in confusion. “I would have let you read everything if you asked. I have nothing to keep from you.”</p><p><em> Well, if I asked you back then, I would have admitted to being a spiteful creep much earlier than now, </em> Zelda thinks.</p><p>Instead, she says, “I’ve never had any, either. And I’m on birth control, as you already know. So it’s not a problem for me. But if you’d like, you can still back out. If you’re too scared of losing.”</p><p>“That’s certainly not something I’m afraid of.”</p><p>The way Link words that makes the gears in Zelda’s mind spin, because it implies multiple things that he is afraid of, multiple potential weaknesses she can exploit. Is he afraid of something intangible like she is? Or is it something mundane like cuccos? Maybe she can throw one at him and test that hypothesis.</p><p>But that train of thought about the logistics of throwing various animals at Link dribbles out of Zelda's head when he pushes his underwear down enough to pull himself out, stroke himself once, and then slide the briefs off completely. </p><p>Thanks to what she now refers to as the Cliff Urination Penis Incident of Doom (CUPID), Zelda had already seen his penis when he wasn’t aroused, and she’d just seen him inside his underwear, but she still held out hope that by an act of divine intervention when Link was naked he would somehow turn out to be smaller.</p><p><em>Why do the goddesses hate me so much? </em>Zelda asks the forces of the universe<em>. Would a micro-penis have been too much to ask for? Or even saggy testicles? Though they’ve never answered my prayers before, so it stands to reason they’d ignore me now, too.</em> <em>Oh no, of course their stupid chosen special hero of legend couldn’t be less than perfect in any aspect, especially when he already carries around another large phallic symbol. It’s not humorously huge on his body, but it still suits his thick thighs and calves all too well. It even looks aesthetically pleasing, just like the rest of his offensively pretty self. How can a damn </em>penis<em> even look nice?!</em></p><p>Link cocks his head to the side, obviously realizing that Zelda is glaring at his cock like if she grimaces at it hard enough, it will turn to dust. </p><p>He scoots his hips back in an almost unconscious, self-conscious gesture and asks, “Um, is it okay?”</p><p>A drop of liquid beads at the top of his flushed tip peeking out of his foreskin. Zelda hates how much she wants to taste him and lick it off. How much she wants to feel him inside her. How much she wants <em> him</em>.</p><p><em> It’s perfect, you absolute bastard, </em> Zelda thinks.</p><p>“I suppose it’ll do,” Zelda forces out through her teeth. “Let’s settle this.”</p><p>Zelda moves to turn onto her stomach on the sleeping bag, because if she’s actually going to have sex with Link, there’s a better chance she’ll be able to hold off and win if she doesn’t have to see his face. For <em> reasons</em>. And maybe a part of her realizes that if she doesn’t have to see his face, she won’t have to confront her guilt about using him. Win, win.</p><p>But Link stops her with a gentle hand on her arm before she can fully turn away from him.</p><p>“No,” he says, and it’s strange to hear him deny her anything, to hear him tell her <em> no</em>. “If we’re still going to bet, then you’re going to look at me.”</p><p>Zelda compromises for shooting daggers at him, hoping she looks intimidating instead of merely constipated.</p><p>Link settles down on his back on the sleeping mat and pulls at Zelda’s hips. “Here, you get to try first. Then it’ll be my turn. Okay? This way, it’ll be a fair competition. Just like you want.”</p><p>That actually does make sense, but Zelda refuses to admit it.</p><p>“Fine,” she concedes. “If you wish to be lazy, I won’t stop you.”</p><p>Zelda swings her leg over Link’s hips to straddle him. When she traps his cock between her thighs and his stomach, he lays his hands on her knees and lets out a puff of air but doesn’t speak.</p><p><em> He is as smooth and warm as I imagined. Curse him and his penis. </em> </p><p>“Ready to lose?” Zelda asks, planting her hands on Link's shoulders and rubbing herself down, sliding back and forth along him while making sure to avoid her clit, teasing him in retribution for before.</p><p>The obvious twitch underneath Zelda is answer enough. Finally, she’ll have her vengeance.</p><p>Link grits his teeth and stays silent. Even when Zelda reaches down and strokes him before raising up on her knees, he doesn’t say anything.</p><p><em> Don’t make a sound, </em> Zelda orders herself as she brings the wet tip to herself and starts to press down. <em> Don’t react. Don’t– </em></p><p>Zelda’s eyes squeeze shut and she gasps out as she slides down on him until their hips are flush and her thighs clench against his ribs. She’s so full and the sweet pressure in her pelvis almost bring tears to her eyes. It’s so vivid and <em> right </em> and even better than she imagined.</p><p>“Are you okay?” Link asks, his stare intense and tinged with worry even though his cheeks are flushed bright red. “Does it hurt?”</p><p>It has been quite a while, but already being an orgasm in and humiliatingly eager for him did wonders to ease any discomfort Zelda could have felt. The only thing that comes close to pain is how good it feels and how difficult it is to not just use Link to make herself come quickly on his lap. </p><p>Still, the fact that he even asked makes Zelda’s blood boil. Link must think that she’s some delicate, breakable little flower that needs constant coddling. And, of course, <em> he’s </em> the one who has to protect her, since she’s incapable of taking care of herself in everyone else’s eyes. Weak. Pathetic. Helpless. Useless.</p><p>Link’s hands come up to her hips, smoothing up and down with light pressure. Like he’s soothing a horse or some other stupid beast. Zelda scowls down at him.</p><p>“I’m. Fine,” she bites out. “Don’t flatter yourself.”</p><p>He frowns. “I just want to make sure you’re not in any pain.”  </p><p>In response, Zelda rocks her hips down on him, a slow forward and back motion that sends heat straight to her stomach. Link’s fingers dig into her waist and he groans, low and loud.</p><p>“Here, let me touch you.” He starts to slides a hand down between her legs.</p><p>But before he can get those wicked fingers on her again, Zelda slaps his hand away.</p><p>“No. Not yet.”</p><p>“Sorry.” His hand returns to her waist. “Tell me when.”</p><p>As of now, “when” is <em> never</em>, since Zelda does not want to take any chances losing. There's a better chance that Ganon and Link will reconcile their differences through singing a power ballad together at karaoke night than a chance that Zelda will willingly surrender her current advantage to Link. Though she had forgotten how good this could feel, even more so this time for some completely unknown reason, which presents an unforeseen variable in her calculations.</p><p>Even so, the odds aren’t looking too bad, with Link spread out underneath her, eyes dark and mouth open, spurring on her motions with his hands, helping her rise and fall on top of him. His feet are planted wide off of either side of the sleeping bag, though he doesn’t use the leverage to push up into her. His hips shift only slightly, as if he’s fighting to be still and let her have control.</p><p>Zelda mimics his earlier words, “How does it feel?”</p><p>“Perfect,” Link responds without hesitation. “You feel as good as you taste.”</p><p>Biting her lip doesn’t save her from responding, since Zelda clenches down hard around his cock at the words.</p><p><em> That arsehole! How does he think he can just say things like that? How </em> dare <em> he. </em></p><p>In retaliation, she bounces up and down on him faster and moves her hands from his shoulders to his chest. With her nails, she scratches the skin over his pecs and nipples, leaving angry red grooves in her wake.</p><p>Interestingly, Link seems to enjoy the pain, crying out and thrusting up for the first time since Zelda started riding him. He hits exactly the spot inside her where Zelda has been consciously avoiding, and she whines before she can stop herself. Horrified at her body’s betrayal, Zelda slaps a hand over her mouth.</p><p>But Link’s fingers curl around her wrist and bring her hand back down to his chest.</p><p>“You don’t have to do that. You can be loud. I can kill anything that disturbs us.”</p><p>From anyone else, it would be a hollow, chauvinistic boast. But from Link, it’s both a statement of fact and a promise. And it’s also interesting that he assumed that she’s trying to stay quiet for both of their sakes and safety, instead of being petty and not wanting him to know how much she’s enjoying herself. The guilt that Zelda can’t shake comes roaring back and she tries her best to push it to the side.  </p><p>At least Link seems to be taking his own advice, since he’s far from quiet now.</p><p>Before she met Link, Zelda honestly did not expect him to be mostly silent. Especially from how Mipha talked about him.</p><p><em> “You’re going to absolutely </em> love <em> him, Zelda,” Mipha said, clasping Zelda’s hands in excitement. “I’m so glad he’s been chosen as the hero. We’ve been friends for forever and he’s amazing. Funny, smart, and incredibly kind. And he’s ever so talented, too– he even plays the acoustic guitar!” </em></p><p>
  <em> While Mipha went on an extremely lengthy, detailed monologue about how in their first year of University Link had sung and played guitar to “Where No Monuments Stand” to an adoring audience in the quad, Zelda made a valiant effort to not let her eyeballs roll out of her skull. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Urbosa nudged Zelda with her elbow and muttered, “I bet that’s a real panty-dropper. At least he’ll be fun at parties.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Zelda stifled a snicker and broke Mipha out of her rapturous retelling of Link’s presumed sex appeal and innumerable achievements. It took everything in Zelda to hold back and not say, "Well, at least it wasn't fucking 'Wonderwall.'" Mipha would never have forgiven her.</em>
</p><p>
  <em> After waging and winning a silent battle of willpower, Zelda cleared her throat and replied, “That’s… nice, Mipha, but I don’t see how being proficient at playing old folk music and apparently liking attention makes this knight more qualified to be Hylia’s chosen hero.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> It only made him seem like a much larger douchebag in Zelda’s completely objective opinion. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Mipha shook her head and gave Zelda a brilliant smile. “Trust me, Zelda, you’ll love him. I promise.” </em>
</p><p>It turns out that not only was Link <em> not </em> fun at parties, but Mipha’s promise was broken the day Zelda met Link. She couldn’t reconcile the supposedly vibrant man Mipha blatantly adored with the living personification of elevator music she met.  </p><p>But now, with Link gazing up at her in naked awe, loudly groaning with all of his stoic shields ripped to pieces, Zelda has to accept that perhaps she was <em> slightly </em> wrong in her initial estimation of him. Though she does still find the guitar playing particularly douchey. </p><p>Zelda also can’t quite decide if she’s surprised that Link’s loud in bed or not. Admitting that she’d thought quite extensively about what he’d be like in a sexual context before, even to herself, is humiliating. She was torn between the fact that Link is so restrained and silent in normal life and the fact that he’s by no means quiet when fighting or doing anything physical. And after Urbosa made a rather ribald comment about Link’s excessively loud grunts during a training session, Zelda couldn’t stop thinking about it. Since sex is a physical act, she hypothesized that while Link possesses the ability to keep quiet, he would not naturally be silent.</p><p>Beyond a shade of doubt, her hypothesis has been proven correct. Link is vocal. And Zelda hates to admit it to herself, but she <em> really </em> likes it. She likes the groans and gasps he makes when his eyes flutter shut for a moment, she likes the scattered praise that he blurts out as he tries to keep himself still, and she likes knowing when she does something that makes him feel good. </p><p>“That’s amazing,” Link pants out as she rocks herself on his lap, keeping him deep inside her. His fingers knead the flesh of her thighs. “Just like that. Does it feel good for you?”</p><p>Even though it does indeed feel pretty damn good, stoking that pleasant fire inside her with every motion and making it more and more difficult to not make much noise or let Link touch her, Zelda doesn’t respond. And she pretends to not notice how his face falls when she ignores him. After all, she’s had enough practice lying to herself; it shouldn’t be too difficult to lie to him, too. But, for some strange reason, being dishonest with him stings more.</p><p>At some indeterminate time, the muscles in Zelda’s thighs give out from the day of riding horses and the night of riding Link. Zelda isn’t quite sure how it happens, but she ends up collapsed on top of Link while he grips her hips and keeps pressing in and out of her as she gasps for breath. They’re of such similar– and quite unimpressive– heights that her breasts crush against Link’s chest and their faces end up so close together that their noses touch and they breathe the same air. It’s horribly intimate and not at all what Zelda anticipated when she’d initiated the hate sex. </p><p>Worst of all, she <em> likes </em> it.</p><p>This time, Link arches up and kisses Zelda. It’s almost sensory overload for her to taste herself on his tongue while her hands tangle in his loose hair and he slides in and out of her body. In this position, his flat stomach rubs up against her, and the dual rush of pleasure that she’s been trying to avoid builds, swift and strong.</p><p>Zelda shouldn’t encourage herself losing, but she can’t keep from grinding down against Link, hips hitching back to meet his every thrust. A sharp swell blindsides her, her thighs crush against Link’s sides, and she moans into his mouth. For a terrifying moment, Zelda teeters on the edge and fears she’s about to come and lose the competition. And, even if she tries, she can’t stop herself. She’s too far gone.</p><p>But then Link pulls out and wraps his arms tightly around her back, and the pleasure abates to a manageable intensity. The world tilts and Zelda can’t help throwing her arms around Link’s neck and her legs around his hips as he picks her up and gently lays her back down on the sleeping bag.</p><p>Zelda wonders if he changed the position because he could tell she was about to lose. Would he do that? Does he not want her to lose? Or does he want to draw out her defeat? For the sake of her own sanity, she decides that she doesn’t want to know. All she cares about in the moment is getting Link back to fill the sudden emptiness inside her. She’s so hollow and cold and can’t stand it anymore.</p><p>Link strokes up Zelda’s thighs, which are now slung over his own, and pulls back from kissing her to say, “My turn.”</p><p>Zelda’s heart skips a beat.<em> Oh no. </em></p><p>Head spinning, Zelda realizes that when he picked her up, he didn’t even pause to stop kissing her. Shivers race down her body.</p><p>Link scoots closer, planting his knees on either side of her torso then taking himself in hand and gliding himself along her slit once before nudging in. When he rubs against her clit, Zelda manages to bite back a whine and then congratulates herself for her restraint. Since she's barely able to keep it together, she'll take whatever small victory she can get. Link’s face scrunches up in pleasure as he pushes in, gritting his teeth and squeezing his eyes shut.</p><p><em> “Oh!” </em> Zelda cries out at the first slow thrust, when all of the air leaves her lungs and her eyes flutter at the pressure and fullness.</p><p>At her shout, one of the horses outside makes a loud, disgruntled noise that cuts through the thin fabric of the tent. It's a noise of unambiguous disapproval. Link’s eyes go wide and he freezes on top of her, stilling his hips as they push up flush to hers.</p><p>But then something happens that Zelda could have never imagined, not even in a fever dream. Link starts <em> laughing</em>. Before this night, Zelda had never even seen him raise the corners of his mouth, but now he’s almost cackling. She’d thought his face was beautiful before, but it’s nothing compared to when he laughs.</p><p>“Sorry, I think Epona wants us to keep the noise down so they can sleep,” Link snickers, raising his eyebrows. “I guess you could say we’re… disturbing the <em> neigh </em>-bors.”</p><p><em> What. In. The. Holy. Hell, </em> Zelda wonders, trying to determine if she’s in some dreadful parallel universe where her normally stoic, boring knight makes atrocious dad jokes <em>while he’s having sex</em>. Because that can be the only explanation.  <em> Did he really just tell the worst pun I’ve ever heard mid-coitus? How is the mood not more dead than a buffet after Link’s been set loose on it? And why in the world do I actually find it </em> funny<em>? </em></p><p>Link wheezes at his own terrible pun and it’s infectious, impossible to resist. Without meaning to, Zelda starts cracking up.</p><p>“You’ll have to give Epona my formal apologies later,” Zelda blurts out before she can stop herself, “Because I suppose I’m being a night-<em>mare </em>of a neighbor. And perhaps they also don't approve of bareback riding?”</p><p>It’s quite possibly the worst joke Zelda’s ever told in her entire life and she regrets it <em>as</em> she's saying it, but Link starts shaking with laughter, tears brimming in his eyes. He buries his face between her breasts and holds her tight as his shoulders tremble in mirth. The muscles in Zelda's face hurt and she realizes it’s been far too long since she’s laughed.</p><p>Eventually, they both seem to remember that they were right in the middle of <em>something</em> before they turned into giant dorks, and that Link’s still pressed deep inside her and as hard as ever. Even stranger is the fact that Zelda’s still just as aroused. Every time she laughs, she tightens around him, but instead of being embarrassing or awkward, it just feels <em> good</em>.</p><p>Link raises back up and grins down at Zelda, bright eyes crinkling up. “You are hilarious.”</p><p>Breath catches in Zelda’s throat and she has absolutely no idea how to respond to that. In her life, she’s always been told she’s either intelligent or pretty or a disappointment. She’s never been told she’s <em> funny</em>.</p><p>“And don’t listen to Epona.” Link kisses her neck and whispers, “I love to hear you.”</p><p>As Zelda tries to process the increase in arousal that seeps through her at his words, Link starts moving again. She forgets to even be angry about her failure to win during her turn because she suddenly can’t think of anything beyond Link’s happy yet sweaty face and the gentle rocking of his hips. Spreading her thighs farther apart does make him sink in that small bit more, but even though Zelda's so full of him that she can barely breathe, it's still not enough to quench the desperate fire roaring through her veins. </p><p>Zelda’s become so used to Link being silent for months that when he starts to talk, <em> really </em>talk, without any prompting, she’s the one who’s speechless.</p><p>“You’re beautiful,” he tells her, gazing down and not breaking eye contact. “Especially when you laugh. When I first saw you, when I knelt before you in front of the whole kingdom, I was so nervous I could hardly breathe. But your looks are easily the most boring thing about you.”</p><p>In another formerly rare instance that’s becoming horribly frequent, Zelda can’t think of anything to say in response, so she doesn’t.</p><p>Link strokes his hands over her body from her hips to her breasts to her collarbones and <em> keeps talking </em>, “You’re stubborn and have the strongest willpower out of anyone I’ve ever met. No knights I’ve trained with could have stayed in freezing water like you did or would have even done it in the first place. You have the kind of focus and determination that no one else has. Your strength is beautiful.”</p><p><em> After being silent for so long, why is he finally speaking so much to me </em> now<em>? </em> Zelda wonders frantically. <em> And why is he saying this? Why is he so kind? </em></p><p>Leaning down so that he’s on his elbows, Link starts thrusting harder, hitting exactly where she does and doesn’t want him to on each pass. His knees dig into the sleeping mat which makes angry puffing noises at the rigorous movements. Based on how her day is going so far, Zelda would not be surprised if it exploded under her and she suffered the most embarrassing death in history, second only to if Link had died falling off the cliff with his dick out during the CUPID. Though perhaps she's already died and gone to hell, because having to hold back when Link's moving inside her <em>like that</em> is nothing short of eternal torture. Given the amount of times she caught herself noticing just how naturally Link's hips rolled as he rode horses, it's far from surprising that he's infuriatingly good at this, too. Zelda blames Link's rather wide hips and sturdy legs for how well he’s able to keep up his strong rhythm and maintain that perfect pressure inside her.</p><p>
  <em> Damn his mechanical and body intelligence, damn his words, damn his wide hips, damn him, damn everything. </em>
</p><p>She wants Link to stop talking, to stop making her <em> feel</em>, but she also never wants it to stop. The conflict tears her apart at the seams and nothing but his voice and body and her last stitch of willpower are holding her together. </p><p>“You are absolutely brilliant,” he continues. “I’ve never met anyone whose mind can make the connections yours can without even trying. Whenever you talk about your research, your face lights up. Your brain and thirst for knowledge and passion are beautiful.”</p><p>A dark flush spreads down from his cheeks and nose to his chest and the freckles on his shoulders, but his eyes are bright and clear and seem to stare straight through Zelda. She tries her best to focus on external physical sensations so that she doesn't have to think too much about Link's words. The sweaty tips of his hair brushing over her collarbones. Loud slaps of skin against skin sounding out through the cramped tent. The wet slide of her back against the nylon of her sleeping bag and how the familiar, comforting smell of Link's soap and sweat and deodorant fills her nostrils. Shadows thrown from the fire flickering around them.</p><p>“I know you hate me, but you can’t pretend you’re not kind to everyone else. I’ve seen it. You care so much, and you give so much of yourself away to help others.” He kisses her jaw and murmurs, “I wish you could see yourself the way I do.”</p><p>“Please don’t say things like that,” Zelda finally responds, voice close to cracking just like her mind and heart. “Don’t pretend I’m <em> good</em>. I’m not.”</p><p>“<em>Zelda</em>,” Link breathes, and it’s the first time he’s ever said her name, just her name. It’s spoken so soft and sweet, in jarring juxtaposition to the harsh, incessant movement of his hips. “You <em> are</em>.”</p><p>That’s what finally breaks her.</p><p><em> I’m not, </em> she thinks but can’t bring herself to say. <em> I tried so hard to hate you because I hated myself. You’re always kind, but I’m cruel and selfish and jealous and weak. All I wanted was to be like you. You’re so good and I’m not. I’m not good. I’m nothing like you. </em></p><p><em> I’m </em> nothing<em>. </em></p><p>Without pausing for even a second, Link moves his hand from the back of Zelda’s neck to wipe the sweat from her forehead and the tears from her cheeks. She hadn't even realized she’d been crying.</p><p>“It’s okay, Zelda. Let go.”</p><p>Link bends farther forward so that their lips brush together and Zelda cries out as the angle changes just the smallest amount and his pelvis rubs right up against where her clit throbs. She didn’t think it could feel any better, that she could crest any higher in pleasure without crashing, but she does. On instinct, her legs wrap tight around his waist and she hitches her hips towards him with each thrust, desperate to have him deeper, closer. Desperate to <em> feel</em>.</p><p>Kissing the corner of her mouth, Link says, “Don’t worry, I’ve got you.”</p><p>A strange wail splits the air and Zelda’s horrified that she managed to produce that noise, but she’s even more horrified that she can’t stop the pathetic whimpers that slip out of her mouth.</p><p>More tears leak out the sides of her eyes as Link keeps driving his hips forward. It all becomes too much and she breaks down and screams. Nothing else matters now, nothing else exists but the sharp, all-consuming pleasure that fills Zelda more and more with each deep thrust. Tears burn down her cheeks, her lungs are fire, and her breath escapes in harsh, scalding pants between the desperate noises that scorch up her throat.</p><p>Her nails dig in to Link’s shoulder blades and her legs tighten around him and urge him forward. The slick slide of his skin against her suddenly isn’t enough anymore. She wants him, needs him, burns for him.</p><p>“Please,” Zelda begs, surrendering completely. “<em> Please, </em>Link.”</p><p>After having to constantly be in control for so long, it's freeing to give in at last, to let Link take it and to trust him to take care of her.</p><p>Finally, Link wedges his hand between their bodies and mimics the previous motions of his tongue on her clit with his fingers. It’s perfect and all too much and never enough. Even though Zelda’s going to lose <em>again</em>, she can’t even bring herself to care. She’ll happily burn alive.</p><p>Their lips touch when Link whispers, “I don’t hate you at all,” and then kisses Zelda slow and sweet.</p><p>Zelda loses. </p><p>Undeniably and spectacularly, she forfeits and falls apart. While she squeezes down hard around Link, her hips jolt up in time to the pulses and her legs spasm and lock tight around his lower back, keeping him pressed close to her. It’s suddenly much more wet between her legs, trickling down her backside onto the sleeping bag, but she doesn’t even have the wits about her to be embarrassed. Link kisses her through it, swallowing her wordless screams, never slowing his hand or hips as she grips his back with her nails as if she’s dying, grasping at the only thing tethering her to the world.</p><p>It feels so good that Zelda never wants it to end, wants to feel this way for the rest of her life. She wants to keep falling and falling and never land, never have this absolute euphoria stop. And the fact that it’s <em> him </em> rubbing at her, <em> him </em> moving inside her, <em> him </em> kissing her makes it more satisfying than anything she could dream of.</p><p>For the first time in Zelda’s life, losing doesn’t feel like failure.</p><p>Like everything, it does eventually burn out, slow yet satisfying. Link guides her down from her orgasm gently so that Zelda lands with her feet grazing the ground instead of crashing into it. She cracks her eyes open again, vision blurry, embers of pleasure still raked with every motion of his body.</p><p>Noticing her stare, Link’s eyes flutter shut for a moment as he slows the pace down further to let Zelda recover. Now that she can control her own body again, she kisses him back and threads her fingers through his hair, keeping him pressed close against her. That morning, she wanted nothing more than to be rid of Link, but now there’s nowhere else she’d rather be than right here with him.</p><p>“Was that what you wanted?” Link asks when they break apart for air, as if he’s asking if her steak is cooked medium-rare to her liking instead of single-handedly destroying her worldview and still moving slowly inside her. “Did it help?”</p><p>Zelda bites her lip and nods, unable to voice it. She can’t lie to him or herself anymore.</p><p>But Link doesn’t seem victorious or gloating or arrogant, like Zelda would be in his place. Instead, a happy little smile quirks the corners of his lips up.</p><p>“Good,” he says and gives her a quick kiss on the lips. “Can I?”</p><p>There's a hint of desperation to Link's voice and a tension in his body while he asks her for permission. Zelda should deny Link, should make him suffer. She knows that the second she tells him to stop, he’ll withdraw without question or hesitation. She could order him to leave and throw his clothes and tacky sword out after him into the dirt. She could slap the sweet smile off his face and hurt him more than any enemy ever could.</p><p>But Zelda can’t do it anymore. It’s too hard to hate him now, after realizing that she never truly hated him in the first place.</p><p>“Yes,” she answers. “You can.”  </p><p>Link’s breath catches and he touches her cheek with reverence and kisses her again, grinding his hips down and then thrusting faster. Zelda tightens her thighs around him, urging him on, and clenches down on him in time with each of his motions.</p><p>With a desperate sort of yell, Link presses his face against Zelda’s shoulder and comes. He shudders through it, hips jerking in short, stuttering thrusts that Zelda meets with her own. Groaning and gasping against her skin, Link holds her tighter while she grips the taut muscles of his shoulder-blades and clutches him back.</p><p>As he shakes with pleasure, Link cries out her name like it’s an invocation. Like he’s supplicating an ancient deity, throwing himself on the altar. Before she knows what she’s doing, Zelda places a kiss on the tip of his ear.</p><p>But even when Link’s completely spent and his body loses all tension, he doesn’t collapse on top of Zelda and crush her. He still holds up his weight on his elbows and pecks kisses from Zelda’s shoulder across her collarbone and up her neck until he meets her lips again. </p><p>Zelda assumed that once Link won the bet and gotten off, he’d <em> literally </em> get off her and run away and stay clear of her. Maybe he would become silent again, awkwardly gather his unsightly clothes and grab his gaudy sword, and then trip his way out of the tent. Or he’d have some rude one-liner about winning their bet not once but <em> twice </em> and then sweep off. Perhaps he’d even gaze at her in disgust, realizing what a failure she is in comparison to him, and leave her in the tent to drown in her self-hatred and cry herself to sleep.</p><p>Instead, Link pulls out and rolls them onto their sides, then starts kissing Zelda all over again.</p><p><em>This is not what I anticipated,</em> Zelda thinks in a panic. <em>What is this?</em> <em>And why is he doing this?</em></p><p>Link’s unhurried and gentle as he kisses, brushing the hair back from her face. But somehow Zelda can’t sense any lack of passion. If anything, he’s just as fierce when he’s satisfied as he is when he’s desperate. The sense of safety and comfort that envelop Zelda like his arms should be horrifying to her. But it’s not; being hugged tight and kissed by the maddening, unfashionable knight she’d convinced herself she hated for months is perfect and everything she’d been secretly craving.</p><p>It’s impossible to hate him now, even as her self-hatred swirls around her, black tendrils threatening to strangle her.</p><p>Link finally breaks the kiss and says in a soft voice, “I really like kissing you.”</p><p>The dopey smile on his face rips a hole in Zelda’s chest.</p><p>Seeing him genuinely happy is too much. All of the venom and spite that she’d stored up against him, stacked up precariously high in the cabinets of her mind, shatters on the floor. She can’t fit the pieces back together, can’t sweep them up to conjure up any vitriol towards him to mask her own failings and flaws and shards.</p><p>It’s all wrong. It’s all so irreparably ruined that Zelda hasn’t even begun to plan for this, doesn’t know how to react. She thought that afterwards, she’d have gotten her pathetic attraction to him out of her system and would be able to move forwards and ignore him. Now, Zelda’s faced with the fact that she never wants Link to be unhappy, never wants to see him put on his blank, silent mask and hide again. She doesn’t <em> want </em> to go back to the way things were before.</p><p>She wants <em> him</em>. </p><p>When Zelda’s not blinded by her own insecurities and when she’s able to see Link’s true self, she <em> likes </em> him. She likes that he’s so sweet and caring and open and shockingly wordy. She likes that he tells absolute atrocities of jokes and is the first person to think she’s funny. She even finds his terrible fashion and general disregard for his appearance endearing, even though it’s still tragic. But she can’t bring herself to hurt him more. And she knows that she’s going to eventually let Link down, fail him the way she’s failed everyone else, and she shouldn’t give either of them any hope only to ruin it later.</p><p>Who would care for a Princess so pathetic she can’t even perform her duties and keep her people safe? Who would care for a woman who took advantage of her knight’s care and devotion only for her own base pleasure? Who would care for someone that hates herself and drowns in her own guilt every day? What can she offer Link besides disappointment? </p><p>Oblivious to Zelda’s melodramatic inner turmoil, Link presses a soft kiss to her forehead and reaches over to grab his discarded underwear. </p><p>“Here, let me clean you up.”</p><p>In shock, Zelda leans back on her elbows and lets him. Link spreads her thighs and dabs at the mess between her legs <em> with his own goddamn underwear </em> and Zelda thinks she may have an aneurism.</p><p>Inside her head she screams,<em> What is happening? What is this? </em></p><p>Holding up one finger and frowning, Link says, “Don’t move, let me get those biodegradable wet wipes from my pouch.”</p><p><em> Of fucking course, </em>Zelda thinks. Even the voice that narrates her internal monologue is tinged with hysteria.</p><p>He’s so nurturing and caring even when he doesn’t have to be, even when it doesn’t benefit him at all, and it hurts so much to see that. For the first time in so long, she feels loved, and that terrifies Zelda more than any hatred or distain ever could. For months, Zelda thought she hated Link, but it turns out she has <em> feelings </em> for him. Which is infinitely worse.</p><p>With an air of triumph befitting slaying a great evil and conquering a kingdom, Link fishes the wet wipes out of the pouch and holds them aloft. Well, Zelda amends, what Link calls a “pouch” but is actually a goddamn magical fanny pack.</p><p>“Found them. They were slippery,” Link says with a crooked grin.</p><p>If Zelda was someone else, if she could allow herself to not be burdened, she would have laughed at his terrible joke. But she isn’t and she can’t.</p><p>
  <em> This was a terrible idea. I need to get out of here. </em>
</p><p>She grabs Link’s wrist and he freezes.</p><p>“Um, I’ve got this,” Zelda says and pulls her clothes and boots on. “Don’t wait up.”</p><p>Grabbing the packet of wet wipes from his hand, she leaves the tent to Link’s confused stare and hurries into the woods. As Zelda rushes past the horses, Epona gazes at her with what can only be described as a glare. <em> Great. </em> Now she’s doing an awkward waddle of shame in front of a horse who is apparently disappointed in her, too.</p><p>Darkness swallows Zelda as she breaks through the tree line and questions pour through her mind like a river crashing through a valley. A valley that is realizing they were previously experiencing an extreme case of repressed feelings and denial.</p><p><em> What just happened? What did I do? Why did I sleep with him? Why did I enjoy it so much? Why do I like him so much? Why doesn’t he hate me? Why do I find his awful jokes funny? Oh no, we </em>live together<em>– what the actual hell am I going to do now? </em></p><p>Working through a major existential crisis while she pees and gives herself a quick wet wipe shower in the cold doesn’t work as well as Zelda hopes. And her hopes had been as low as Link’s standards for edible food to begin with.</p><p>
  <em> Think, Zelda, think! Put that damn wisdom to use for once! </em>
</p><p>Zelda gazes up at the stars spilled across the deep night sky, desperately hoping someone will just tell what the hell to do. But, as usual, no one responds. All of her questions go unanswered.</p><p>Back at the campsite, she finds Link fully dressed in the tent trying to scrub the stain they made out of her sleeping bag. To her delight, he’s wearing sweatpants and not the cargo eldritch horrors of legend. Not to her delight, his eyes are sad.</p><p>“You can use my sleeping bag instead,” Link says, gesturing outside where he always sleeps and giving her a small smile. “I’ll go grab it for you.”</p><p>With a cutting clarity, Zelda realizes that she’s never even asked if Link wanted to sleep in the tent before. He’d never complained about being outside. Even though the tent is tiny, it’s still made for two people, and he could definitely have squeezed his sleeping bag in here with hers. But she didn’t even think of it; she didn’t give a single thought to his comfort or needs or wants.</p><p>Unlike Link, who’d give her his own sleeping bag to use and still sleep outside in the cold in only his clothes without complaint or hesitation. After everything Zelda’s said and done to him, he’s still so kind and sweet and selfless and never thinks about himself. When she spent an entire depressed weekend after midterms marathoning <em> Bridgerton, </em>Link sat on the couch with her, made her popcorn, and didn’t make a single move towards the remote. During finals when she got a stomach bug and couldn't lose any time studying, Link stayed on the cold bathroom floor by the toilet with her, holding her hair back with one hand and her flashcards up with the other. For Din’s sake, when she blasted “Broken Crown” for a solid hour straight in the car right after a rather explosive fight with her father, Link not only did not try to change the song but didn’t make a single peep in objection. Now <em> that </em>is the pinnace of selflessness right there.</p><p>She treated Link like trash for months and told him she <em>hated</em> him and he’s stayed so fucking loyal that it makes Zelda sick.</p><p>Sitting down hard on the damp sleeping bag, Zelda tries to not let what’s left of her heart break.</p><p>As Link gets up to leave and slide on his ugly tevas, Zelda whispers, “You should hate me.”</p><p>Her voice is so soft that Link shouldn’t be able to make out the words, but his hand stills on the tent door zip. Red light from the dying campfire flickers around him.</p><p>He turns around and meets her eyes. “I told you: I don’t.”</p><p>“Why are you always so kind to me?” Tears well up in Zelda’s eyes and she chokes out, “I don’t deserve it.”</p><p>Shaking his head, Link plops down next to Zelda on the stained sleeping bag. “Of course you do.”</p><p>Something in Zelda breaks. All of the shame and guilt and anger cracks and the shards pierce out through her skin.</p><p>“No, I <em> don’t </em>!” She screams, tears spilling over and streaming down her face. “I don’t deserve your kindness or <em> you</em>. You're so good, and I’m cruel to you and only you because I’m blindingly jealous and insecure and selfish. I’m a damn adult but I’m still so immature that I take my anger out on you. It’s not your fault that you’re perfect and kind and gifted and <em> chosen </em>and everything that I’m not.”</p><p>Link lays his hand on her back and Zelda doesn’t move it away. </p><p>“I’m a failure!” The sobs take control of her body and she can’t stop the flow of words, can’t halt her confession. “I’m already twenty-two and I still haven’t been able to access my power. I’m going insane and I can’t take it anymore. Everyone I know and love is going to <em> die </em> and it’s all my fault and I can’t do anything about it. I’ve studied my entire life, I’ve sacrificed so much, and all for fucking nothing! My father was right. I am <em> nothing</em>.” </p><p>Even though Zelda curses to herself all the time, she’s never sworn in polite company, much less in Link’s formerly reserved company. She blames the personal hell of years of royal manners lessons. But she can’t find the strength to cling to the bonds of propriety anymore. Especially after she’d permanently severed them when she first kissed him.</p><p>Zelda tries to fling herself down to the ground, but Link is there to catch her and hold her while she bawls like a child.</p><p>“I’m sorry, Link,” she weeps into his shoulder. “For everything. You don’t ever have to forgive me, but I’m so sorry.” Her voice cracks. “I’m <em> sorry</em>.”</p><p>“Zelda, it’s okay.” </p><p>She shakes her head into Link's shirt and sniffles. Even though Zelda's probably getting snot and tears all over his flannel, he doesn't pull away. Instead, he holds her tighter.</p><p>Link rubs her back and says, “I forgive you. I understand.”</p><p>“You <em> shouldn’t</em>.”</p><p>“I do.” He takes a deep breath. “I know that you think it’s some fluke and that you have no connection to Hylia, to your past lives and power, but I don’t see it like that. Do you know why?”</p><p>Zelda shakes her head again and cracks open her eyes to glance up at him.</p><p>“She remembers you,” Link says, nodding his head over his shoulder at the sword. “Fi, the spirit of my sword, talks to me sometimes and shows me things. And when she first saw you, she was <em> happy</em>. She recognized you and remembered you.”</p><p>Zelda narrows her eyes and squints through the tears at the sword strapped to Link’s back. All this time she had hated it, had seen it as the symbol of everything she hated about herself. But, just like Link, the sword hadn’t felt that way about her at all. She’d been so wrong. About everything.</p><p>“Truly?”</p><p>“Yes. She’d missed you.” Link pauses and takes her hand. “And so did I. When I met you, I remembered you, too. Not the exact memories, but I could sense who you <em> are</em>. And I was so happy to meet you again.”</p><p>When she met Link, she was the opposite of happy. But she’d already made up her mind to hate him. Perhaps her anger and strong will had overpowered any sort of recognition. Did she intentionally sabotage herself? That would... not actually be surprising at all.</p><p>“How can you remember who I am when I can’t even figure it out myself? Who am I, Link?” </p><p>“You’re Zelda.” Link squeezes her hand. “And Hylia. And so many strong women that I’ve known and lo– that I've known throughout my lives. But you’re still more than that. You’re more than your power. You’re more than just your destiny. And, as I said before, you <em>are</em> good.”</p><p>Zelda runs her fingers along his knuckles and sighs into his shoulder. “I don’t feel like that at all. I don’t feel good or strong. I feel like a fraud.”</p><p>“I know.” With a deep breath, Link confesses, “I know how you feel because I’ve felt the same way ever since the sword came to me.”</p><p>That’s the most surprising thing that’s happened in a day of accidentally seeing Link’s penis, sleeping with him, and crying on him. Which is really saying something.</p><p>Zelda blurts out, “But you’re <em> perfect</em>. You’re the hero chosen by the goddess and you’re incredibly gifted. You’re the living embodiment of <em> Courage</em>. You don’t have to be afraid of anything.”</p><p>“Oh, I am.” Link laughs, but it’s full of sadness, not joy. “I’m absolutely scared shitless of failing. I don’t even <em> speak </em> because I don’t want to fail to live up to the lofty expectations of the hero I’m supposed to be. I used to be like this all the time, but when I got the sword I stopped talking and showing emotion. No one wants a hero who tells awful jokes and puns and blabbers on about food and horses. No one wants just <em>me</em>. They want a stoic avatar, some savior to project all of their hopes on and to assuage all their fears. And I try to be that for everyone because I'm so afraid of disappointing them, but it wears at me and sometimes I think I’m losing who I am for who I’m pretending to be.”</p><p>That makes horrible sense. She’d never even thought of his burden, too consumed with her own. </p><p>But for some godforsaken reason, Zelda responds to Link’s heartfelt, eloquent confession with, “I enjoy your awful puns.”</p><p>“<em>Really? </em>Wow, that’s a first.” Link’s eyebrows try to make a break for his bangs and he cracks a small smile. “But does what I said make sense? Sorry, I’m not the best at talking. I'm kind of out of practice.”</p><p>“It does. And you’re actually quite good at it. Er, I appreciate it when you talk to me like this. I'm honestly shocked; I just assumed you were quiet because you detested me and didn’t want to interact with me because I wasn’t good enough for you. I didn’t think you wanted to be stuck with a failure of a Princess.”</p><p>“<em>No</em>, Zelda, not at all,” Link says in a rush and grabs both of her hands. “I was so afraid of disappointing you. All I wanted was to protect you, to be the perfect knight and hero that you deserve. To be worthy of being <em>yours</em>. I’m so sorry that I made you think that. I just want you to be happy– that’s the reason I made that stupid bet. I didn't care about winning; I want you to do what you’re passionate about and be able to research, not only do what your father demands from you.”</p><p>Zelda's head is spinning and she’d need to sit down if she wasn’t already. She can’t believe for how wise she’s supposed to be, that she’d been so goddamn <em> stupid</em>.</p><p>“Please don’t apologize; the fault is mine.” She tightens her fingers around Link's and prays that her palms aren't too sweaty. “That is incredibly kind of you, and I can’t believe I was so wrong. I am deeply sorry. I just– I feel so worthless and weak and like all of my failure is poisoning me. I’m afraid it’s poisoned you, too. Or that it will.”</p><p>Link narrows his eyes and shakes his head with passion. “You’re <em> not </em> a failure! You haven’t even failed. There is going to be a day when you seal the evil, when you <em> succeed</em>, and I have no doubts that you’ll be able to. I’ll be right there by your side, protecting and helping you. I will <em>always</em> be here for you. But that one moment isn't everything, and afterwards, you’ll have your entire rest of your life free. To do anything and everything you want.”</p><p><em> To be free. </em>Zelda wonders what would that even feel like.</p><p>Link squeezes her hands and continues, “What you were born to do isn’t all that you’re worth. You’re more than that. Especially to me.”</p><p>Once again, Zelda can’t think of words that will express her thoughts. She can’t conjure up the sentences to express how much Link’s honesty and sentiment mean to her, how her chest hurts with how deeply she cares for him. All of her problems aren’t solved, but the crushing weight on her shoulders lightens just enough for her to breathe.</p><p>Instead, she says, “Please stay, Link.”</p><p>“Always.” Link pauses, glances down at what they’re sitting on, and amends, “Er, let me grab my sleeping bag first.”</p><p>“That’s wise, Mr. Courage.” Zelda gathers up her own courage, swallows the lump in her throat, and tells him, "You know, if you're ever scared or worried, you can talk to me about it. I'd like to be able to share that burden with you. To be able to help you as you've always helped me. I haven't shown it, and for that I am truly sorry, but you mean a lot to me, too. Maybe other people don't because they're idiots, but <em>I</em> certainly want<em> 'just you</em>.'" </p><p>For a moment, Zelda fears that Link's actually going to cry. Did she say something wrong? Did she manage to offend him the first time she's actually being honest with him?</p><p>But Link doesn't, instead cupping her face with his hands and resting his forehead against hers. </p><p>"Thank you. I will," he breathes out against her lips and kisses her cheek before heading outside to fetch the non-disgusting sleeping bag.</p><p><em>Oh,</em> she realizes. <em>He's not upset. He's happy.</em></p><p>For the first time in months, the cloying weight of guilt lifts from Zelda's ribs and is replaced with something different. Something lighter.</p><p>While Link lays his sleeping bag down on the tent floor and continues the lost cause of cleaning Zelda’s off with an antibacterial wipe, he mumbles, “Also, uh, I know I apologized already for earlier today, but in the spirit of apologies and trying to be open with you, I’m still really sorry. I honestly thought you’d heard me say I was going to go check out the moss by the cliff. I’m sorry I wasn’t clearer and you had to see that.”  </p><p>Zelda certainly didn’t mind seeing it, since she stared at him like a complete creep, and now realizes that her reaction was quite harsh. Maybe instead of assisting with the undergraduate physics classes, she should teach a course on projection, as she's apparently quite well versed in that subject.</p><p>She grabs a wipe and starts scrubbing the bag with him.</p><p>“It’s completely fine; it really wasn’t anyone’s fault.” Zelda sighs and admits, “Honestly, I was just looking for an excuse to be mad at you. And I was a little surprised, since I don’t think you’ve ever had to stop to ‘look at the moss’ solely for yourself before. At one of my lower points, I was petty enough to even be jealous of your bladder control. How long had it been?”</p><p>Link grimaces. “About 18 hours.”  </p><p><em> 18 hours. What the hell?! </em>It’s about what she had estimated, but hearing it from Link himself makes it somehow worse.</p><p>“18 hours? What the hell, Link?! That’s extremely bad for you. You studied anatomy, for Din’s sake!”</p><p>He shrugs and glances to the side. “We were busy and there were a lot of attacks, so I didn’t want to slow you down. Especially since I know you don’t like the heat. I felt guilty.”</p><p>“You’re a <em> man!</em> It takes you less than a minute!”</p><p>She’s somehow not surprised in the least that Link made himself extremely uncomfortable for <em>hours</em> just so that he wouldn’t inconvenience her for a minute, but it hurts more than she thought.</p><p>“I still felt bad and thought I could just wait until you had to stop. But I also didn’t want to literally piss myself, so…” His eyes widen and his face reddens. “Oh! Apologies for the language.”</p><p>“Do. Not. Apologize. I think we’ve had enough apologizing for this lifetime. And you certainly don’t have to watch your language or anything else with me. You were just <em>inside me</em>; I don’t think there’s much professionalism left between us.”</p><p>Link laughs and takes the wipe from her, throwing it in the bag he keeps for garbage. “As my Princess commands.”</p><p>“If you don’t keep calling me Zelda, I’ll burn your atrocious cargo pants and salt the ashes.” Zelda slides into Link’s sleeping bag and pats the fabric beside her. “Now please get in here with me. And yes, that is an order, Sir Link.”</p><p>“As you wish, Zelda,” he replies with a crooked grin, taking off his sword and clambering in next to her. The master sword lays on the tent floor beside her, but somehow its ostentation isn't aggravating anymore. Instead, it makes Zelda feel safe.</p><p>After a moment, Link asks, “Wait, you don’t like my cargo pants?”</p><p>“Link. They are the absolute <em> worst</em>.” Zelda rolls her eyes and pulls Link close to her as he does his best to pull the bag closed around them.</p><p>“But they zip off and everything! They’re really practical.”</p><p>“The. Absolute. <em>Worst</em>.”</p><p>It’s a tight fit, but they maneuver themselves both into the sleeping bag facing each other as Link unsuccessfully tries to sell Zelda on the dubious merits of zip-off cargo pants. They press together from chest to thigh, legs tangled together and arms around each other. Warmth fills Zelda and she would rather fight a lynel with her bare hands or talk to her father about her future plans or do any other terrifying thing than ever leave. </p><p>Zelda traces her fingers up Link’s neck and stops at the bite mark. It is… noticeable. And unambiguous.</p><p>“Oh, I’m–”</p><p>Link swallows her apology with a kiss. “No more apologies. I don’t mind.”</p><p>“Perhaps you can tell people that you got it protecting me from some small, volatile, insecure, mean biting animal? Or maybe I can give you a scarf to wear? I'll knit you something; I’m quite good at that. How about a rabid little fox? You heroically jumped in front of me and saved my life when the feral and <em> very immature-acting </em> animal dropped from the trees and then–”</p><p>“It’s fine,” Link interrupts her nervous babbling. “I don’t care if people see. Unless you do.”</p><p>“Ah.” Can her face burn so hot it functions as its own heat source? If so, Zelda’s certainly going to find out. “No. Er, I don’t. Mind, that is. I don’t mind if people see, either.”</p><p>Even though Link told her how much he cares for her, the action proves beyond a doubt that he’s not ashamed of her. Not ashamed of being <em> hers</em>. That certainly hits right between her legs, and if she wasn’t so bone-numbingly exhausted, she wouldn’t be able to keep herself from throwing her leg over his hip and keeping them both up all night. But Zelda’s physically and emotionally drained and all she wants is to fall asleep in Link’s warm, safe embrace. It’s been a long day. Though now, with the wisdom of hindsight, she doesn't regret looking anymore.</p><p>The tips of their noses touch and Zelda gets up the nerve to say, “I have no right to ask anything of you, but could we start over? I’ll be kind and not a raging arsehole to you and you don’t have to be reserved with me?”</p><p>“Yes. I’d love that.” He nods his head down at their bodies and how they’re trying to fuse together like chuchus. “Can we keep being like this? Together?”</p><p>“Yes. I’d love that,” she replies, echoing his own words.</p><p>The grin that breaks Link’s face is better than any dawn she’s seen break the sky. For the first time in so long, she’s light, unburdened, free. <em> Happy. </em></p><p>Zelda kisses the smile on his lips and whispers, “Link, I really don’t hate you at all.” </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>And that’s a wrap! I hope everyone enjoyed the conclusion where Zelda and Link finally Talked It Out (after banging it out), and please let me know what you thought! Your comments are all amazing and completely make my day.</p><p>I’m also about 65k (yikes) into a multi-chapter Grad School botw AU fic that has a very different plot-line than this but is just as fun to write and is also explicit and (I think) humorous. Once it’s finished, I’ll post the chapters here, along with possibly some other one or two-shots before then.</p><p>And I’m zeldasthicceyebrows on tumblr where I mainly post my own art and will also be posting some writing. Feel free to find me there if you want to talk about zelink/loz and see more bad jokes and puns!</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I completely blame quarantine for this. Part 2 will be out shortly and there will be More Sex and also Talking About Feelings. </p><p>Also, this is the first fanfic I've ever published, so if you enjoy it so far please let me know what you think! I love to nerd out and talk about Legend of Zelda and zelink with anyone and everyone.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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